


Customary

by Lenore



Series: Bric-a-Brac Verse [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Mpreg, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-06
Updated: 2007-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teyla wants to observe Earth customs for celebrating Rodney's baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Customary

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://linaerys.livejournal.com/profile)[**linaerys**](http://linaerys.livejournal.com/), who has inspired my newfound love of knitting.

Teyla wasn't entirely bad at knitting. Okay, so yeah. Yeah, she was. But she wasn't the _worst_. That distinction went to Cadman who couldn't seem to get it through her head that the needles weren't weapons and the yarn wasn't the enemy. Evan had never seen anyone stab at stitches the way she did. To say Cadman wasn't a natural was putting it mildly.

Finally, midway through the third meeting of the McKay Baby Knitting and Sewing Circle, Cadman threw down the deformed scrap of knitting she'd been poking to death and declared, "Rodney just isn't worth this kind of aggravation, blessed event or not. I'll get him a gift certificate to Baby Gap. Those stores are always popping up out of nowhere. I'm sure there will be one in the Pegasus galaxy sooner or later." She bounded to her feet, smiling like a kid who had been let out of school early. "Well. See ya."

That left five of them. Chuck, who was a monster with the needles, busily turning out an entire year's worth of sweaters in a gradation of sizes. "You know how fast babies grow," he was fond of saying.

Elizabeth—who had learned to sew in college, she told them—was putting the finishing touches on a pinafore style dress, with ruffles at the sleeves and along the hem, and a bow that tied at the waist. In Evan's opinion, it was way too frilly to suit McKay, who had already started laying down the law where his daughter's dignity was concerned, "I will not have people drowning her in pink or treating her as anything less than the brilliant scientific mind she is destined to be." Evan wasn't going to bring that up with Elizabeth, who kept looking up from her work to say with a smile, "When they decide on a name, I'm going to embroider her monogram on it."

Katie Brown got the award for being the world's best sport, pitching in to crochet a blanket for the crib, even after all her misadventures with McKay. Evan himself was nearing completion on a coat and planned to use the yarn he had left over for a pair of matching booties.

"I believe something is not as it should be, Major Lorne." Teyla held out her knitting for his inspection.

It was a hat, and she hadn't made much progress in the week she'd been working on it, one problem after another causing her to pull it apart and start over. She'd already cast on three times, which was clearly beginning to frustrate her, although she had gotten quite good at that part of the process, which was something at least, to Evan's way of thinking.

"Um— looks like you somehow started knitting with the tail," he told her. "You're going to have to—"

"Please do not say it." Teyla's forehead creased unhappily.

"You know, you don't have to knit. I've seen Athosian weaving. It's amazing, and I'm sure Dr. McKay would love—"

"I thought it was customary on Earth to create these knitted items for the newborn child of one's friends?"

"Well, yeah. Sort of. I mean, some people do."

"I wish to do what is customary," Teyla said resolutely.

"Um. Okay. But you're going to have to—do that thing you don't want me to say."

Teyla took up the needles again, with less than her usual calm, and Evan wondered if he was going to have another Cadman on his hands. But then Teyla took a breath and let it out and began pulling out the stitches, resigned at least, if not exactly pleased.

  
Their knitting-slash-sewing circle met every Tuesday, and Friday mornings, in the absence of any dire emergencies, Evan and Teyla had a standing appointment to spar. Or to go through the weekly exercise in humility, as Evan sometimes thought of it. Today, Teyla was even more take-no-prisoners than usual, and after the fourth time Evan went down hard, a bruise definitely forming on his ass, he asked, "Is there—um, something you'd like to talk about?"

Teyla brushed her hair out of her face and helped him up. "I am sorry, Major. I spent time knitting this morning before our session and—it was not productive. I should not take out my frustrations on you."

"You know—"

Her eyebrows drew together fiercely. "Do not tell me that I do not have to learn to knit."

He held up his hands in playful surrender.

She ducked her head, a little sheepishly. "I am just—used to being able to do what I set my mind to."

He grinned. "Hey, we're not going to let knitting beat you. It just takes practice until you get the hang of it. Why don't I come by, and we can take a look at what you're doing, break down your swing— Um, that's a sports metaphor."

Teyla nodded. "I understand, Major, and I would appreciate your assistance. My quarters after dinner?"

  
There really was nothing terribly wrong with Teyla's knitting technique, Evan concluded, as he sat next to her on the sofa, watching her make stitches. It was just common newbie mistakes. "You keep trying to bring the needle through the back," he pointed out. "Sometimes it helps if you scrape the needle. You want me to show you?"

She nodded and handed over the knitting, and he demonstrated. "Okay. You try." He handed it back.

She fumbled with it. "I am not quite sure how—"

"Here. Let me see if I can—" He angled his body and reached around her, his hands on top of hers, trying to help her guide the needles. "Just scrape it—"

That's when it him: he had his arms around _Teyla_. Her hair brushed against his chin, and her back was pressed warmly to his chest, and she really, wow, smelled good.

"Do not stop, Major." Her thumb stroked his hand "I believe there is much merit in this form of teaching."

He cleared his throat. "You could call me Evan, you know, if you—"

She relaxed back against him even more. "I would like that. Shall we continue our lesson now, Evan?"

By the time they were ready to call it a night, Teyla was knitting much more sure-handedly, making even stitches, and if her pace wasn't exactly zippy, she had at least settled into a regular rhythm.

"I believe I will be able to complete the hat in time for the baby's birth," she said with a bright, pleased smile that made Evan's stomach feel way too warm all of a sudden.

"Yeah, um—" He fidgeted awkwardly. "You're doing great."

Teyla walked him to the door. "Is there no Earth custom to celebrate the successful mastery of a new skill?"

She looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips, her eyes bright with humor and anticipation.

He blinked. "Well. We—"

She brought her hands up to his face and pulled him down to her, and the first touch of lips was light, considering. Then Teyla opened her mouth, and Evan did, and they kissed more hungrily. He wound an arm around her waist and stroked her hair, and she really did smell incredibly, amazingly, impossibly good.

When they broke apart, she was even more bright-eyed, her chest rising and falling sharply, and the way she looked at him...

He stared, not quite believing. "Me? Really?"

She tilted her head. "Why not you?"

"Honestly?" He grinned. "I'm not usually this lucky."

She kissed him again. "You must come back tomorrow night. I would not wish to neglect my lessons."

He nodded, with mock solemnity. "Like I always say, there's nothing more important than learning."

Teyla laughed, low and throaty, and Evan carried that sound with him, all the way back to his room.


End file.
